You Need Help
by rachelberrys
Summary: Blaine finds out about Sam's self harm habits as well as his eating habits. What does he do and how does Sam react to Blaine trying to help him? Blam friendship. (Eating disorder and self harm trigger warning.)
1. Chapter 1

It was 4:50 pm. Football practice ended 35 minutes ago and Blaine thought he was the only one left in the school, using this time to work out _and_ practice his glee club solo without being looked at strangely.

Blaine walked into the locker room after his workout, seeing Sam sitting on a bench near the back of the room. "Oh… oh my god, uhh…"

"Shit, Blaine…I…" Sam shot up, everything that was sitting on his lap, or in his hand, falling to the ground. He turned around and grabbed a pair of track pants from his locker, slipping them on over his shorts as quickly as possible, not turning back around to see Blaine. He was already embarrassed and ashamed.

The silence in the room was thick for a few moments before Blaine spoke.

"Sam… what's going on?" Blaine walked a bit closer to the blonde boy who still had his back to him. Blaine looked down at the floor to confirm that he saw what he thought he saw when he walked in. On the floor was lying a razor, a blood stained cloth as well as a few unopened band aids. "Sam?"

"Look, dude, just… go, okay?" Sam was searching through his locker for who knows what, maybe nothing. He mostly just wanted to look busy until Blaine left so he didn't have to turn around revealing the blood stain on his pants caused by the cuts he just made to his upper thigh.

"Sam, I'm not leaving." Blaine had concern in his voice, and he had the right to. He just walked in on his best friend cutting himself.

Sam shut his locker and realized he couldn't get out of this situation like he had hoped. He turned around and started picking up his belongings he had flung onto the floor when his best friend walked into the room.

Sam still hadn't made any eye contact with Blaine, but the former warbler walked towards him and put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam shrugged him off.

"Then what were you doing?" Blaine had no idea how to go about this; he had never known anyone who had a self-harm habit before. He watched an episode of Dr. Phil about it a few months ago but wasn't even really paying attention because he didn't think he'd ever need to confront someone about it.

Sam scoffed. "Nothing."

Blaine was watching him pick the razor and bloody cloth off the ground and Sam knew his "nothing" wasn't believable but he didn't know how to respond. Like Blaine who never thought he'd have to talk to someone about this, Sam didn't think he'd have to talk to someone about it either. They were just on different sides of the conversation.

Sam went back to his locker and stuffed his previously-on-the-floor belongings into his bag. He grabbed his books and turned to leave.

"No, wait… Sam." Blaine stopped him as he tried to walk by to escape the locker room.

He succeeded in getting Sam to sit and listen even just for a moment but he refused to say anything and was focusing solely on the floor, not making any eye contact. Blaine spoke again to break the silence.

"Sam, were you cutting yourself?" He didn't remember much from the episode of Dr. Phil but he did remember that when you're worried about someone when it comes to something like this, you need to be straight forward with them. He was watching Sam's face, which tensed up, still looking down, his eyes slammed shut, and it was obvious Sam didn't want to talk about this but Blaine felt like he had to say something.

"It's a thing I do, who cares?" Sam spoke very defensively.

"I care! A lot! Tell me what's going on, you can trust me."

"Dude, it doesn't even matter, okay?"

Sam was willing to make eye contact at this point and Blaine took advantage of the situation. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" He wanted to move the conversation forward despite Sam's unwillingness to co-operate.

"Just forget it." Sam stood up and tried to change the subject. "Wanna swing by the choir room to see if Mr. Schue left any sheet music for Friday's song?"

Blaine sat there for a second, looking up at Sam, his eyes wide and in pain. "I really think we should talk about this, Sam."

Sam sighed, ran his hands through his hair and looked at Blaine. "Dude, can you just drop this? Please?"

Blaine shook his head; he really wished he could just drop this and forget about it. He wishes he could forget the sight of Sam's bloody dripping leg, and the razor in Sam's hand. Blaine spoke, almost as if he was speaking to himself. "I have to tell someone. Mr. Schue or something. Maybe Miss. Pillsbury. "

"No! Bro, look, you can't do that, you have to promise me!" Sam flung his hands up, trying to emphasize what he was saying.

"Sam. What do you expect me to do?"

"Okay…" Sam went at sat back down beside his friend. "Look, it's not a big deal, I'll tell you but you have to promise me you won't tell anyone."

Blaine nodded and Sam continued after taking a deep breath and exhaling loudly. "It sounds stupid and I know that but you don't get what it's like, Blaine, to have to worry about your body so much. Like, you have so many other things in your life and all I have is my body and I get frustrated with myself if I gain weight or eat too much and I was looking online a few weeks ago and there's these websites that tell you like how to deal with your guilt if you eat too much or whatever and some suggested that I do this and then like I won't feel guilty because I'm punishing myself for screwing up. I know it's kind of dumb but you promised me you wouldn't tell anyone."

Blaine could barely speak, he felt like there was a huge lump in his throat. He didn't know what to do and he felt like the room was spinning. "I don't even…know what to say. Sam, this isn't okay," He thought for a moment before figuring out how to continue. "And you shouldn't be looking at those kinds of websites. They're not good for you. You need to find someone to talk to. I can come with you to Miss. Pillsbury."

"No! What? You just said you wouldn't tell anyone."

"That was before I know how serious this was! I thought maybe this was a onetime thing."

Sam laughed a little bit. "No, Blaine, don't worry. Okay? It's not serious. I only do it on days that I eat over 500 calories and that barely happens so it's not like I'm doing it every day. I'm not going to kill myself, dude, you don't have to worry."

"Oh, my god." Blaine was the one standing up now. "Are you joking?"

Sam has a look of wonder in his eyes; he didn't know what Blaine thought he might be joking about.

"You can't live on 500 calories, and you can't do _this_." Blaine was in shock that his friend was doing this to himself, the cutting and the eating habits. "Let's…" He sat back down beside his friend. "Talk about this, one thing at a time."

Sam ran his hand over his forehead, getting the hair out of his eyes, and Blaine continued to talk. "Why are you not eating?"

"What? I am."

"How much?"

"Usually around 300 calories a day, maybe 350." Sam was speaking with such confidence, he was proud of his control; he didn't understand why Blaine seemed so shocked.

"300 calories a day? Or 300 calories a meal?"

"A day. Are you kidding dude? If I ate that much in one meal I'd probably weigh 700 pounds." He laughed a bit and patted Blaine on the back, thinking Blaine would laugh back.

"You're sick, Sam."

"What?" Sam ruffled his eyebrows; at this point he was confused. He was kind of ashamed of the cutting, but didn't think anyone would have a problem with his eating. He was in shape, not perfect shape, but he knew he was healthy.

"You're really sick if you think that's okay."

"No, I feel fine."

"Not sick, Sam… _sick._" Blaine licked his lips which were dry due to his deep breathing habits he had when he didn't know how to deal with a situation. "You need to see someone about this."

"Why is this even a big deal?"

"Do you really not get it?"

Sam shook his head. "Okay, yeah, you're right, I shouldn't cut myself and I know I'm gonna have crazy scars for like ever but it's not like I tried to kill myself."

"Sam! It's not…" Blaine didn't even know how to finish his sentence. He was getting so frustrated because he loved Sam so much. Sam was such a good person and he always knew his friend wasn't completely happy with this body but he didn't know _this_ was going on. "It's not the fact that you physically hurt yourself. It's the idea that mentally you think it's okay, that you're allowing yourself to do this, that you don't see the problem. Plus the fact that you're starving yourself, and that you think, in your head, that eating 500 calories is something to punish yourself for. That's not okay, Sam. It's not healthy."

"Whatever." Sam grabbed his books. "I didn't ask for this okay? You came in here and wouldn't leave me alone about it."

Sam left the room and Blaine was alone, standing, thinking, wondering what he next move was.

This was only supposed to be like a 1500 word one shot but then I got into it and It's gonna be a bit longer, I don't know how many chapters , or even where it's gonna go but I have a few different ideas. This whole fic will probably be very conversation based. Lots of dialogue.

Thanks for reading, review if want.

Thanks guys!

(Ps – SPOILER ALERT

did you see the blam tonight, Sam lying on the piano and Blaine looking at him with those EYES when he sat up. I'm not okay!)


	2. Chapter 2

"I just want to talk." Blaine was at Sam's door, asking to come in like a lost puppy that needed someone.

"You need to leave. Burt's home and I don't want him to think you're cheating on his son with me!"

Blaine smiled softly and leaned against the door frame. "Burt knows we're friends. And I'm also not dating Kurt. And you're not gay…" Sam could tell Blaine was going to list off every reason his comment was dumb, so he cut him off.

"Look, dude, just… I don't wanna talk."

"Please?"

After a few seconds of Blaine's puppy dog eyes Sam let him in and they made their way to Sam's bedroom, which is a place Blaine had never been.

Sam's room was somewhat plain but also very much him. The walls were a dark brown and he had posters hung up of bands, women in bikinis and the show Duck Dynasty. He had clothes lying around, but his room still looked neat. His bed was pushed up against the wall and messy, but it looked so comfortable Blaine just wanted to jump under the sheets. He had about 6 pillows.

"I really don't care about whatever you have to say okay? Mostly I just didn't want Burt to see you and ask you why you're here."

Blaine ran his hand along the side of Sam's desk before looking up at the green eyed boy. "Does anyone else know? About…anything?"

Sam sat down on the edge of his bed and he shook his head. "It's none of their business."

"Everyone would want you to get help."

"Blaine, god! Can't you just stop?"

"How would you feel? If it was me or Brittany or Puck or anyone else in this situation? Would you tell us to get help?"

"It's different."

"How? How is it different? No matter who it is, Sam, what matters is that that person gets better!"

"I can't talk to anyone about it!"

"Why?"

They were both shouting by this point but conscious of Burt who was a few rooms over.

"Because if I told anyone, I would have to stop, Okay? And I'm not ready! I need this!" Sam was almost shaking and Blaine could see he was having a hard time so he went and sat on the bed beside his friend, putting his arm around his shoulder. "I can't give this up."

Blaine nodded. "It's because it's an addiction, Sam. Both things, the cutting and the eating disorder. You don't need them though, Sam. You're such a good person and I hate to see you like this."

He hated that Sam was tearing up. This is so obviously really hard for him. He didn't know how long he had been starving himself. He knew the cutting had only been for a few weeks, but the emotions have probably been there much longer, the guilt over eating more than once a day. The feelings of worthlessness. He just wanted Sam to be okay.

"What if we work together? I won't tell anyone because I promised you I wouldn't and you're clearly not ready for that, but what if together we try to just get you… better?"

"What do you mean?" Sam's voice had cracked and he spoke softly.

"I mean we could eat lunch together, every day, and I could be support for you, when you need it. And when you want to… you know, cut yourself, instead of doing that you call me."

"I don't…" Sam was unsure of this; it made his mind feel heavy. He could feel all his secrets slipping away, and he didn't want to give control to anyone even his best friend who he knew only wanted the best for him.

"I'm not saying your life is gonna change tonight. What I'm saying is we're gonna work together to make you healthy. And happy. Sam, if one day you don't want to eat lunch, I'm not gonna force you to. I'm gonna thank you for being honest with me and encourage you to maybe have a smoothie or something."

"You don't have to do this."

"I do. You're my best friend and you're suffering."

The word 'suffering' made Sam flinch. He hated having negative attention placed on him and there were certain buzz words that just embarrassed him. Another one was 'eating disorder' or 'suicidal'.

Sam sat on the bed, fidgeting. He knew he had lied to Blaine about something and he knew if he was going to get better with Blaine's help, he should be honest with him. Sam didn't necessarily want the help but he figured his friend wasn't going to give up.

"Blaine, can I tell you something?"

"Of course, you can tell me anything, you know that." Blaine was looking at him with wide eyes.

"I lied to you, uh, earlier," Sam was almost whispering at this point. "When I said that I wasn't gonna kill myself, I mean, I'm not but… I don't know."

Blaine's heart broke. He couldn't imagine a world without Sam and the idea that he was even thinking about suicide hurt Blaine so much.

"Sam… what do you mean?"

He ran his hand along his wrist and Blaine watched. "I cut myself on my leg because, you know, I know no one's gonna see my leg." Blaine nodded. "But, like, when I see the veins on my arm I know it could be really easy and I could just be done with all this shit."

"Please don't think like that." Blaine swallowed hard and Sam could see the boy's Adam's apple bob up and down.

"I mean, I'm not gonna do it. I've never tried to kill myself or whatever and I don't really plan on it. I just, think about it I guess. Don't tell anyone alright?" Sam looked at his friend then got up and walked over to his dresser where he pulled out a big sweater which he slid over his head. Blaine hadn't responded. "Okay?"

Blaine wet his lips and looked up at Sam who was standing a few feet in front of him. "I know I said I wouldn't tell anyone but that… was when you said you weren't even thinking about killing yourself."

He crossed his arms and looked down at Blaine. "What the hell… you promised." Sam thought for a second. "Like _2 minutes ago_ you promised."

"I know I did, I know, but I mean a few hours ago I didn't know any of this and now all of a sudden you're starving yourself, you…you're cutting yourself and thinking about killing yourself. How am I supposed to respond?"

"By being my friend and listening when I say you can't tell anyone."

Blaine closed his eyes for a moment and felt the heaviness of the room. He didn't want to make this about him but he didn't know what to do or how to react_. I don't know what to do_, he thought. _He obviously needs help and if I'm the only one who knows about his habits I should do something, tell someone. I don't want him to be mad at me but I'd rather him be mad at me than kill himself. He's lost, he doesn't know what to do. I don't know what to do either but I know what I can't do. I can't just let him suffer. _"If I came with you, would you talk to Burt?"

"What? No." Sam scoffed.

"What about Mr. Schue or Miss Pillsbury?"

"Blaine, we just had this discussion." He used his right hand like a knife and his left hand like a cutting board, pounding the side of his right hand down on his left, trying to emphasize his point with every word.

Burt knocked on the door and Sam tensed up. "Sam?"

"Uhh, yeah?"

Burt opened the door. "Did you…Oh, hey Blaine. I didn't know you were here?"

The two younger boys exchanged looks, Blaine's meant _it's time to say something_ and Sam's meant _dude please don't_.

"Yeah, we have an English quiz tomorrow and Sam just wanted a little extra help."

With Sam's back to Burt he mouthed 'thank you' which Blaine saw but ignored.

"Oh, alright, well if you guys haven't eaten there's pizza in the kitchen."

"I would love some. I'll get you some, too, Sam."

"Oh...no thanks."

"You gotta stop letting this kid each so much at school, Blaine! I make him dinner every night but he never wants it."

Blaine followed Burt in the kitchen.

"I'm glad you and Sam are hanging out, Blaine. He's been sad recently."

Blaine went to go pick up a few slices of pizza but stopped when Sam said that. "He's been sad? What do you mean?"

"With Kurt and Finn gone, he just seems lonely. He never comes out to eat anymore; I only really see him if he's doing laundry, or when he's getting home from school if I'm home."

Blaine grabbed his plates, one for him and one for Sam, even if Sam wasn't going to eat anything, he would still get him a plate. "You should talk to him about that, Burt."

Burt nodded in agreement and Blaine grabbed his plates then walked back to Sam's room.

* * *

Thank you guys for the interest in this story. I'm glad you like it.

I feel like this chapter and the last one have been kind of rushed and I just want you to know the next chapter and the rest of the chapters will have more plot. (I kind of mentioned that in the story when Blaine said that all of a sudden he knows all this stuff when just a few hours ago he had no idea and it's all of a sudden.) I just wanted to get the facts out, which are: Sam and Blaine are best friends. Sam has eating problems, self harm problems, and suicidal_ thoughts._ And Sam is currently living with The Hummel/Hudson family (after coming back to Lima in s3).

Also, Blaine still has a crush on Sam at this point, so it may show up in the writing, but this isn't a romance fic.

Thank you guys for reading, I really appreciate it! Review if you want.

(And a big group hug to everyone reading this, Thursday is gonna be really hard for all of us, be sure to stock up on tissues, we're gonna get through 5x03 together. _You're not alone, together we stand, I'll be by your side you know I'll take your hand._)


	3. Chapter 3

At the end of the day Sam was standing at his locker digging through his bag, looking for his chapstick. He was focused only on the dryness of his lips until out of the corner of his eye he saw Blaine standing beside him.

"Hey." Blaine spoke enthusiastically.

Sam, however, was not in the mood to talk to him.

Silence.

Blaine rested his back against the locker, turning his head to speak to Sam. "Are you mad at me?"

Sam continued to ignore Blaine and reached to the top of his locker, finally finding some chapstick, which he applied.

Blaine stood there and watched, hoping for a response, but when he didn't get one he knew why. "Did he say anything to you?"

Sam shut his locker a bit more roughly than he would have normally. "I'm really not cool with you right now, man." He couldn't say he was necessarily mad at Blaine, because Blaine was his best friend but he certainly was not pleased with what he did.

As Sam walked away, Blaine followed, holding on to the school bag strap that was resting against his chest. "I was just worried about you and…"

"Stop." Sam stopped walking and turned around to his friend. "I trusted you with this," he moved in closer to Blaine, to whisper. "I never told anyone and I told you because I thought I could trust you."

Blaine exhaled and looked at his friend. "What did he say?"

* * *

Burt knocked on Sam's door and the blonde boy shouted for him to come in. He was lying on his bed doing a few situps before bed. Blaine left a couple hours earlier.

"Mind if I come in?" Burt smiled, kindly.

"Yeah, no problem." He sat up.

"Hey, so I was wondering," Burt walked into his room as sat on the red computer chair that was tucked into Sam's desk. "How have you been doing, you know, since the boys left?"

Sam shrugged. "Fine, I guess, it's a little lonely around here but I keep busy."

"Yeah… you've been working out a lot lately."

Sam laughed a bit. "Gotta keep the ladies interested, you know?"

"Yeah. I just hope," Burt smiled at him. "You're not being too hard on yourself."

"What do you mean?" Part of him was confused but part of him, a part he was ignoring, knew what Burt meant.

"Give yourself a day off once in a while."

"Yeah. For sure." Sam was anxious and nervous and he had definitely caught on to what was happening. _Shit, what is going on? What does he know? What did Blaine say? I'm gonna kill him. I'm actually gonna kill Blaine._

"You know you can talk to me right Sam?"

"Of course, yeah." _Blaine, I hate you. I hate you so much._

"Okay. Just wanted to make sure." Burt stood up and walked back to the door. He pointed over to the night stand beside Sam. "And eat that pizza, alright?"

He wanted so badly to ask Burt if Blaine had said anything to him, but he figured if there was even the smallest chance he hadn't, Sam didn't want to bring it up.

"Yeah, no problem." He reached over and grabbed the plate of pizza. At this point he just wanted Burt to leave and him to be left alone.

* * *

"He just told me to not be so hard on myself." Sam shrugged.

"I really didn't say anything, Sam. He asked me if I… noticed anything and he said he had and I just suggested he talk to you." Blaine really wanted Sam to understand that even though he did think Sam needed help, he hadn't done anything to betray his trust.

"Still not cool, dude."

The two boys had begun walking again. "I know. I really just thought that maybe he'd be able to help, more than I could."

"You don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?" Blaine shook his head quickly and ruffled his eyebrows.

Sam walked into the choir room before Blaine and took a seat in the last row of seats.

The choir room was busy enough and enough people were talking and holding conversations that Sam was confident that whatever he said wouldn't be overheard as long as he said it softly. "I don't want people to know. People already stare at me because of my mouth or because I'm stupid or something, I don't know, but the point is, I don't need people to know this. And I don't need anyone's help."

The choir room smelled like old books and new shoes. It was a smell that made both boys feel at home. Blaine sat back and looked around. He knew that if the other kids knew then maybe they'd help him help Sam. He looked over to Sam who was picking at his jeans, the little balls of fabric that start appearing when you've worn a pair of jeans a hundred times.

"Okay, listen up!" Mr. Schue walked into the room and headed straight to the white board. "Say it with song." Mr. Schue spoke as he wrote the words on the board. Some of the kids nodded, some clapped, and some looked confused. Sam rolled his eyes, which Blaine saw.

Will continued. "The other night I was going through one of my old journals, yes I kept a journal, and it had all these lyrics in it that I used because I couldn't write the words down on my own. I needed the music to help me express what I was feeling. And this week, that's your job. It's up to you what you want to say, who you want to say it to and how you want to say it. All that matters is that you use the music to help you express how you're feeling."

"I think that's a great idea, Mr. Schue." Blaine spoke up. "Don't you, Sam?"

"It's pretty cool." Sam shrugged and spoke in a monotone because he didn't want to give into Blaine's little game, but he didn't want to make it too obvious that he was not looking forward to this assignment. As soon as Mr. Schue wrote down those words he knew Blaine was going to have something to say about it, about him.

"Great attitude, guys! We'll start Monday." Mr Schue encouraged them and everyone else in the choir room started writing down or discussing ideas.

Blaine moved his chair closer to Sam. "I wanna help you with this."

"What are you talking about?"

"Sam, this is a great opportunity for you to be honest and open with everyone. We can help you."

Their quiet talking was easily over powered by the laughs and conversations being had by everyone else. Jake was up showing Mr. Schue some dance moves, Marley and Tina were watching Kitty and Brittany over by the piano talking about who knows what and everyone else was focused on their own conversations.

"You need to stop saying that." Sam looked Blaine straight in the eyes.

"Saying what?"

"That I… Look, dude. It was so cool of you to say you want to help me through this stuff and I know my life is kind of messed up right now, but I don't need help, okay? You need to stop saying that I do."

Blaine shook his head. "Fine." He moved his chair back over to where it was and got up to go join Brittany and Kitty by the piano.

Sam grabbed a note book from his bag and began jotting down ideas. Or at least trying to. '_I don't even know what to sing about'. _He thought. '_All I do is work out and do homework sometimes. I could sing about video games. I don't know if there are any good songs about video games, though. Maybe Blaine's right. Maybe if I say something people will understand and they'll be able to deal with things even better than me. But what if they don't? Mercedes was easy to talk to, so was Quinn but they're both gone. Blaine's great, of course, which is why I told him but I don't know about everyone else in here. God I'm so hungry. I probably should have eaten that pizza last night. Or even lunch today, I was avoiding Blaine and I didn't even think about it. My stomach hurts so bad. I need something to eat. No. No, I don't.'_

"Sam, are you okay?" Sam looked up and saw Blaine talking to him.

"Yeah, fine." A soft grin flowed across Sam's face.

"I'm thinking about going to get some coffee, did you want to come?"

"Uh, no. I think I'm just gonna go home. I need to find a song and do homework and stuff."

"Okay," Blaine shrugged. "Did you wanna do something later?"

Sam stood up and grabbed his bag. Everyone was starting to pack up as well. "No, I think I'll just… stay in tonight."

"I'll text you." Blaine patted Sam on the back as he stepped down from the highest step of chairs.

Sam nodded, half ignoring him as he walked passed everyone and out of the choir room.

* * *

"Hey, buddy, you're home a little late." Burt was sitting on the couch reading a newspaper when Sam got home.

"Yeah, glee rehearsal." It really was only 30 minutes later than usual.

"Right." Burt nodded and folded up his newspaper, giving his attention to Sam. "Carol was thinking of going out to dinner tonight. What are you in the mood for?"

_Oh, my god. Breadstix would be so good right now. Or maybe TGIF. Even McDonalds would be delicious. I'm so hungry. Okay, wait. I'm at 0 calories right now for today. Crap he's staring at me. What did I eat yesterday? Oh, right. Nothing. "_I think I'm actually just gonna stay in tonight. Homework and stuff."

"You sure? We can go wherever you want."

_I can't. I can't eat today. Sam, don't do it. I can't ruin this. I could do a fast all weekend. Yes. "_Nah, I'm good. I might make a grilled cheese or something here."

Sam was standing at the end of the couch looking for an excuse to just walk away. "Sam, sit down."

_Oh no. Oh god. _Sam found a spot at the opposite and of the couch from Burt.

"Are you doing okay, Sam?"

"What?" Sam spoke quickly, his eyes wide. Like a deer in headlights.

"Look, Sam… I don't wanna… make you uncomfortable, okay?" Sam nodded and Burt continued. "I just wanna make sure, you know, you're eating alright."

Sam's heart sunk. His face fell blank. His spine tingled. Sam bit his lip before speaking. "I don't…" He didn't know how to respond.

"I think you know what I'm trying to say," Burt shrugged. "Do you have anything you want to say to me?"

"No." Sam spoke small. His voice barely escaping his mouth.

"Okay." Burt nodded. He's had a long road getting comfortable talking to Kurt about things and having to do the same with Sam is like starting all over with Kurt. Burt was never one to want to fight against an uncomfortable moment. If he was forced to face this head on, he would probably lash out.

"So, I'm gonna go to my room now." Sam spoke awkwardly and stood up.

"Just know, Sam, Carole and I both care about you, alright?"

"Alright."

When Sam got to his room he flung himself, back first onto his bed. _God, why do I have to be like this? Things would be so much easier if I was just normal. If I was smarter or funnier or better at dancing or singing I wouldn't have to worry about this shit. I want a cupcake or a burger. What's the point anymore? Blaine knows and he's probably gonna tell someone. Burt knows. But I'm not good enough yet, I need to be skinnier, I need more muscles. _Lying on his back he pinched at the essentially non-existent fat on his stomach, but it seemed like a lot to him._ I need this gone. _

* * *

Blaine woke up the next morning at 9. He had slept almost 17 hours. I guess when your body is lacking sugar or vitamins or nutrients it gets pretty tired. "Fuck." Sam rolled out of bed, still wearing his jeans and t-shirt from the day before. He changed into some gym shorts and wiped the sleep out of his eyes.

He could smell bacon and eggs coming from the kitchen and he wishes he could avoid that room since it was obvious someone was in there but he had to walk through the kitchen to get to the washroom, which he _needed_ to do.

"Good morning, honey."

Sam smiled. "Morning, Mrs. H."

"Did you sleep alright?"

"Yeah, no bad, actually." Sam walked over to the sink and got a glass of water. Even though his bladder was full his mouth smelled like death and he figured it couldn't hurt to have some calorie free water.

"Did you want some bacon? I could make you some toast?" Carole didn't look at him as she flipped the bacon she was cooking.

"No thanks." He finished his water and put the glass beside the sink.

"Okay… well sweetie just let me know if you change your mind, alright?"

"Yeah, I will. Thanks."

Sam went to the bathroom and when he was done he looked in the mirror. He looked pale, he could see it. Any time he went more than 24 hours without food his face began to lose colour. His head hurt a bit and he stomach was killing him. _You like the pain of an empty stomach more than the pain of eating after you've fasted. And definitely more than the guilt that comes with eating. _He splashed some water on his face and quickly combed his hair. He wanted to look at least a bit presentable. When he left and went back through the kitchen Burt had joined Carole in the kitchen. They were both sitting at the kitchen table and there was a third plate set for Sam. He tried to ignore them and walk by. "Sam, sit down, Carole made breakfast!" Burt spoke enthusiastically, trying to convince Sam to sit down.

"Wow, you know it looks so good but I'm not really feeling well." Not a total lie.

"No, Sam. Sit down." Burt's cheerful tone went away and his eyes were serious. "It's good, have some."

Sam sat down because more than anything he just wanted to avoid an awkward moment, he didn't want to eat but actually eating could be avoided by pretending to eat. He poured himself another glass of water and took a napkin, placing it over his lap. He grabbed a fork and examined it for water marks. He was just trying to look busy so it would seem like he was eating. As long as it looked like he was doing something it would seem like he was eating. But Burt was watching him.

Sam moved his eggs around his plate and lifted an empty fork to his mouth then pretended to chew. "It's really good." He said excitedly to Carole.

"What are you talking about; you didn't even have any yet." Burt said loudly from the opposite end of the table.

"Burt…" Carole tried to shush him.

"I watched him. He didn't eat anything."

"Maybe he meant it smells good." She spoke strictly to her husband.

"Go ahead, Sam. Have some of the bacon." Burt had stopped eating his own food to focus on Sam eating.

"I think… the grease might make me sick."

"Then have some of the eggs. Or the toast."

Sam picked up a piece of toast and ripped it in half. _Each bite is probably 20 calories, at least. Probably more. Look at the all butter. Don't do it. I can't do it. It's not worth it. Calories and carbs, that's all this is. _His thoughts were half his own, half the voice in his head that he hears when food is nearby, not really his, but not really anyone else's.

"Sam, you don't have to…" Carole spoke softly to the boy, but Burt cut her off.

"Fine." Burt stood up and took the plate right out from in front of Sam and scraped the food of his plate into the garbage.

"Burt!" Carole snapped at the man throwing away the food.

"He's not gonna eat it, Carole, there's no point in savin' it!" Burt shouted back to Carole.

"Sam, I'm so sorry…" She put her hand on his arm, but he just got up and went to his room. It was obvious they were both mad at him or _something_, and he didn't want to be at that table.

_It's your fault. All of this is your fault. If you weren't so stupid things wouldn't be so screwed up. _Sam reached into his drawer and grabbed his razor blade and a cloth. He got off his bed and locked the door before turning around and sliding down it to the floor. Pushing the leg of his shorts up closer to his hip he ran his fingers over his cuts. He doesn't like to look at them often but he always knows they're there. He rolled his eyes gently at himself before dragging the blade across his thigh. It dug into him and it stung like it always does. He winced and pulled it across his skin again. And again. And a few more times. By the time he was done there were 7 slashes across his skin. "Shit." He whispered to himself as he grabbed the cloth and stopped the blood that was dripping down the outside of his leg.

After a few minutes of sitting there thinking about what happened, someone knocked on the door. _Fuck._ "Uhh, just a second." He flung up and threw his cloth and razor back into his night stand drawer before unlocking and opening the door.

"Can I sit down?" Carole had a concerned look on her face and as badly as Sam wanted to say no and send her away he knew he couldn't.

"Sure." Sam jumped onto his bed and folded his legs like he did in preschool on the floor with the other kids.

"I just wanted to talk to you about what happened out there."

"I don't really…"

"Sam," She cut him off. "We're just worried because you're really not eating as much as boy your age should be. And we can't help but notice that you've gotten really quite skinny, Sam."

He looked down at his own stomach beneath his t-shirt. His shirt was a bit big on him but it had always been, right?

"I think you're just going through a rough time right now, you're confused and you're young, but I just want you to know you can talk to me or Burt about anything. Girls, school, food, anything you need. Okay, sweetie? Burt got a little upset with you this morning but I've talked to him about that. He said he's talked to you a few other times and it was my idea to do breakfast this morning, I thought maybe you'd feel like eating. We didn't mean to pressure you. I know it must be hard with your parents so far away, and if you need to call them that's no problem, I just know sometimes it's easier to talk to someone else, someone who isn't your mom or dad."

Sam just nodded, still focusing on his stomach. _I look bloated, I don't know what she's talking about. I shouldn't have had that water._

"We're not gonna force you to talk about anything, just try to make healthy choices okay?"

Sam looked up to her and smiled. "Thanks a lot, Mrs. H." She had told him a hundred times that he could call her Carole but he always defaulted to calling her Mrs. H.

She nodded back at him and closed the door behind her as she left.

His leg was hurting and so was his stomach. He walked over to his mirror and lifted his shirt. He could see the rolls of fat hanging off his stomach. _What was she even talking about? I look fatter than ever before. _His negative thoughts were cut off when he heard his phone vibrate.

BLAINE: text me back, im gonna have a boys night tonight with jake and ryder and artie do you want to come? video games!

SAM: ya sounds good what time?

Sam scrolled up through his messages and saw all the other texts from Blaine he apparently missed last night when he was sleeping.

BLAINE (7:14 pm): are you feeling ok?

BLAINE(7:26pm): text me before you go to sleep tonight!

BLAINE(8:12pm): sam I know you're mad at me but text me back when you get these

BLAINE(9:39pm) i'm just worried about you ok? lets hang out tomorrow

BLAINE(10:47pm) i'm going to sleep please text me in the morning sam!

Sam put his phone down but picked it up only a few seconds later when it vibrated again.

BLAINE: thank you for texting me back i was worried! come over at 5?

SAM: sounds good

Even if he was a little upset with Blaine, the boy was still his best friend and with all the tension at his place, he couldn't wait to hang out with the boys.

* * *

Thanks for the reviews guys! I'm kind of using this fic to help me through a few things, writing instead of doing _other things_. I know there was a lot of Burt and Carol in this chapter and not all that much Blaine; I just wanted to make it clear that they both know about Sam's eating habits. Not his cutting or suicidal thoughts but his eating habits. Even though this is a blam friendship fic it's greatly about Sam's situation and since Blaine isn't the only person in his life, there are gonna be major things with other characters, but the rest of the chapters that I have planned focus more on Blam than this one did.

(Unrelated to the fic: how good was 5x03? Amazing, right? I've had a really hard time getting over Cory's death and I'm just really proud of what they did with Finn in the episode. Sometimes you really just sit back and think "wow, I love this show" even if it **is** awful half the time. I'm just really proud of what they did this week. I've been saying goodbye to Cory for 3 months and I feel like I finally got to say goodbye to Finn. I'm gonna miss him so much.)

Teaser for next chapter: "God, just eat something, it won't kill you!"


	4. Chapter 4

"Sam! What's up man?" Jake greeted Sam as he walked into the den with Blaine. Jake and Ryder were hunched on the floor in front of the couch playing videos games. Artie was beside the couch in his wheelchair cheering them on.

Sam patted Artie on the back and walked over to Ryder to guy-hand-shake him.

He slumped down on the couch beside Blaine. "What are we playing?" He was leaning over to Blaine to ask while the other guys were screaming at the screen.

"Super Mario World. Classic. Ryder brought it over."

"Sounds good." He nodded to himself.

After an hour of the boys taking turns to play between the two controllers, lots of swearing, yelling and arm punches Blaine realized it was getting a little late.

"I'm probably gonna order a few pizzas," He stood up and grabbed his cell phone off the table. "Pepperoni sound good to everyone?"

Everyone nodded and agreed before going back to the game. Twenty something minutes later the doorbell rang and the pizza had arrived. All the boys gathered at the table in the den that Blaine had put the pizza on. They all took a soda and more than a few slices of pizza. Everyone except for Sam.

"Come on man, it's so good!" Ryder shouted from the table back to Sam who was sitting on the couch looking on his phone. The smell of the cheese and meat was so intoxicating. _Oh god, it smells so good. But I didn't deal with this morning just to let this happen now. Just change the subject, or ignore them and get them to think about something else and they won't even notice. _Blaine came back to the couch and sat down beside Sam again. The other boys were still standing around the pizza watching Artie chug a root beer.

"Did you want me to get you some?"

"Blaine…" Sam spoke and Blaine could actually hear the eye roll in Sam's voice.

"I know, okay, I'm sorry for offering."

"You don't have to be sorry, alright? I just had a really stressful day and I just wanted to relax tonight and not worry about this stuff, you know?" He shrugged. His voice was small. He felt almost ashamed.

"Did you eat anything today?" Blaine took a bite of his own pizza, but kept looking at Sam.

"OHHHHH!" An eruption came from the boys behind them. Jake went to open a soda, not knowing that Ryder had shaken it with the goal of making it explode on him. Blaine laughed at the boys, a few towels and it wouldn't be hard to clean up, he liked that they were enjoying themselves.

"Sam?"

"Look dude, it doesn't matter."

"It actually does matter, a lot, Sam!" Blaine voice rose a bit but not enough to draw any attention to them. Blaine stood up and grabbed Sam's hand, leading him into his parents bar area just outside of the den.

"Did you eat today?"

Sam sat on a stool and shrugged. "I couldn't." His voice was quiet. Anytime he spoke about anything relating to his eating habits or his cutting habits he either got irrationally upset, angry, or quiet.

"Why couldn't you?" Blaine followed Sam's lead by sitting on a bar stool.

Sam rested his elbow on the bar and leaned the side of his face against his balled up fist. The bar area smelled like his old house, the one he had when he was just a kid. It made him happy, even if only for a few seconds. "I haven't technically weighed myself in a few days now, I'm actually really good with not worrying about that, but I feel like I've gotten like fatter and,"

He was cut off by Blaine. "Sam, are you kidding me?!" He was getting a bit angry, or rather frustrated, now but he was trying not to show it.

Sam just shrugged and Blaine continued. "Literally 10 minutes before you got here Artie asked us if we thought you looked sick. You've lost a lot of weight over the past month or so. Sam, people are noticing."

Sam shook his head in disbelief. _I've gained at least a few pounds. There's no way I'm smaller now than I was a month ago. I just need to keep skipping as many meals as I can and everything will be okay._

_He doesn't even see how sick he is. _Blaine thought to himself while looking at Sam_. I can't let him do this anymore. I can't. I don't care if he gets mad at me. I can't let him destroy himself anymore._ "I'm gonna go get you some pizza, okay? And you're gonna eat it." He nodded at this own statement, is voice was kind and hopeful.

Blaine jumped off his bar stool and walked into the den room. The guys had gone back to playing the video game and didn't even notice Blaine walk in to grab some pizza. When he went back to the bar area Sam was standing, his arms crossed.

"I'm not eating that." Sam looked, wide-eyed at Blaine.

"Yeah you are. Please? For me." He put the paper plate down beside his friend who didn't even look at it.

"Dude, I'm not gonna eat it!" Sam raised his hand and pointed at the plate.

"Why not?" Blaine's voice was a mix between angry and concerned. He wanted so badly for Sam to just sit down and eat the pizza. _He hasn't eaten in who knows how long, he has to be tired and dizzy and obviously hungry. Sam, please just eat something._

"Because, Blaine, I can't. Okay? I can't!"

"God, just eat something, it won't kill you!"

Sam's face fell flat after Blaine said that. "I'm gonna go."

"No, Sam… I'm sorry." He really didn't mean to explode. When he first learned about all of Sam's issues he made it his number one goal to stay calm and only focus on helping Sam, not getting upset with him, not making him feel guilty, only making sure Sam knew people cared about him and wanted to see him get better.

Before Blaine realized it Sam had left. He had nothing to grab from the den so he left even more quickly than he came.

On Sam's walk home his phone vibrated.

BLAINE: I'm really sorry sam!

He rolled his eyes and shoved his phone back into his coat pocket.

_It's my fault. I'm the one screwing this up. I don't want to be like this anymore. But I sure as fuck don't want to look like this either. I have to choose between being fat and pissing off everyone around me. That's not fair. This is so stupid. I didn't choose this. I don't want this. I don't want any of this. I can't do this anymore. It's not fair to me and it's not fair to anyone else. God, I don't understand why I'm being treated like this. I try to be a good person, but this is the life I was given? It's not fair._

Sam turned into his yard knowing exactly what to do. He wasn't going to live a life he hated anymore.

Monday at school Blaine found Sam sitting in the library during lunch. He was reading a comic book and obviously not eating. "Hey!" Blaine called to Sam as soon as he saw the boy sitting there. Blaine received a few "shhh's" from the other people in the library.

"Dude, go away." Sam didn't even look up.

"Can I just talk to you for a few minutes?" Neither of their voices were full whispers but they weren't being loud enough to cause any problems.

"No. Go away."

"You don't have to say anything," Blaine sat to the right of Sam, on the corner side of the square table. "I just want to talk."

"I'm trying to read." Sam still hadn't looked at Blaine.

"Give me two minutes!" Blaine was half begging, half convincing Sam he deserved it.

Sam closed his comic book and crossed his arms, letting his posture diminish in the process.

"Okay," Blaine smiled a tiny bit; happy Sam was giving him a chance. "I actually practiced this in the mirror last night because I was nervous. Sam, you mean so much to me and I'm really scared something awful is going to happen to you. I went online yesterday and I like, looked up how to help someone with an eating disorder and I know that you have other problems too like your cutting," Sam looked around when Blaine started talking about his disorder, making sure no one was listening to their conversation. "But I think the cutting and stuff has a lot to do with your eating disorder, so maybe if we can get that under control everything else will fall into place. It said I shouldn't try to force anyone with an eating disorder to eat, and I'm really sorry about the thing with the pizza I just sort of panicked because," As Blaine was talking he watched as Sam repositioned himself and grabbed for his comic book again. At first he was almost offended that Sam didn't care what he had to say, but that emotion quickly left his mind as he saw the sleeve of Sam's sweat shirt be pushed up by the friction of his arm against the table while grabbing for the comic.

He stopped talking and his eyes darted back and forth between Sam's arm and Sam's face. "Sam…"

"Dude, what?!" Sam had gotten to the point that he was so tired of people telling him that they were worried and that they were concerned.

"Your arm." Blaine had the whole world in his eyes; they were big and round and deep because he was looking at someone he really cared about. Someone who only cut himself on his legs because he couldn't really hurt himself seriously that way. Someone whose arm was all of a sudden covered in surprisingly deep horizontal lines and holes.

Sam looked down, saw what Blaine was talking about and pulled his sleeve down to the palm of his hand. He picked up comic book up and began pretending to read. He could feel his face turn red. He didn't want anyone to know. He figured when people saw the cuts on his arm it wouldn't matter because he would be gone, cold.

"Sam. Sam, look at me."

Sam looked straight ahead of him, his eyes heavy and his lips dry. After a second he turned to Blaine and shrugged. His jaw was clenched.

Blaine didn't know what to say. It was written all over his face that he was scrambling for words. "Sam… you told me," his voice was even quieter now because he didn't have the strength in him to yell. "that you would only do _that_ to your arm if you were feeling actually," he mouthed the last word, not actually saying it aloud "suicidal."

"Yeah." That was all Sam said. Class started in a few minutes and everyone had cleared out of the library so the two of them had the place to themselves, excluding the librarian and a group of kids sitting near the back playing cards.

"Sam, did you try to…" He trailed off and didn't even finish the sentence because he couldn't. He couldn't actually say the words when they felt this real. "Please be honest with me." Blaine felt weak, like all of a sudden his body had been drained of all energy.

The room was silent for a few seconds before Sam spoke. "I don't want to do this anymore, Blaine." He shook his head. "It's gotten a lot harder than I thought it would."

"Don't want to do what anymore? Live?"

"Don't say it like that."

"How else am I supposed to say it?" He waited for a quick second. "Do you actually want to die?"

Silence.

"Yeah."

Blaine could feel his heart break. To have his best friend one day and not the next day would be something Blaine couldn't take. But thinking about how much he would miss Sam made him realize that if he's this upset over this Sam must be miserable. He's on the outside looking in, but Sam's living it. Sam's living the pain, Blaine's just experiencing it.

"So you actually tried…to kill yourself?" Blaine had to push down all his emotions to be able to talk to Sam's straight forward about this.

"I can't do _this_ anymore, Blaine."

Sam had all these words in his head that he wanted to get out but he couldn't. He sounded overdramatic and cheesy but that was because the clichés he had on the tip of his tongue were easier to say, even to his best friend, than the thoughts he really had back in the dark corner of his mind. The words that he didn't even like thinking even if they were true. _I hate myself. I'll never be good enough for anything. I'm starving. I feel broken. I wish I was dead. I'm nothing. I don't matter. _The thing is Sam knew there were people who cared about him. He knew he had friends and family and that didn't matter. _Is it more selfish of me to kill myself or for other people to tell me to keep living when I want to die? I'm not depressed, I can smile and laugh and find pleasure in things. But deep down, I'll never be happy enough to want to live. I feel like a toy. They only last so long and then you get a new one. I can only last so long, and I'm wearing out. People will have to find a new one. A new Sam. A new best friend. A new duet partner. A new son. A new boyfriend. A new student. A new everything because I've reached my expiration date. I'm past the point that I can feel okay enough to keep going. I can't wake up every morning in a state of starvation but I can't eat because if I do I won't be special. My eating disorder makes me special. It makes me stronger. I have self-control when I don't eat. When I deny myself food I allow myself pleasure. As much as I hate being hungry, the pain in my stomach that comes after a few days without food is my favourite thing. But it makes me too tired now. I hate having to keep up with my diet all the time. I hate working out all the time. But this is my life and if I don't want to live like this anymore than I can't live. _But Sam didn't say any of that.

"I'm telling someone. Everyone. I'm telling everyone."

"What?"

"If you think I'm gonna keep this secret anymore, Sam, you're wrong."

"You promised."

"I don't care!" Blaine was speaking louder now, he almost hoped that someone would hear him. "You tried to kill yourself Sam. I'm not keeping this to myself anymore."

"If you tell anyone,"

"What? You'll kill yourself? You want, you already tried, you're…" Blaine could barely finish his sentence. "Sam, come with me to Miss. Pillsbury, please, You don't have to live like this and if you just let someone help you, you'll see, things will get so much better."

"I don't need-"

"Stop." Blaine cut him off. "You need help more than anyone I've ever known. Do you see that this isn't a game anymore, Sam? You tried to kill yourself already once."

"And I failed." _Again_, he thought. _Failed at something else._

"Thankfully!" Blaine stood up. "Come with me."

Sam shook his head, looking up at Blaine. He could feel the back of his eyes tingle with the forethoughts of tears.

"I know you're scared."

Sam bit the insides of his cheeks.

"Just walk with me to her office. That's all you have to do. If we get there and you decide you don't want to go in then… okay."

"You can't make me go in."

Blaine let his hands fly up in agreement. "I promise."

Sam took a deep breath in and got up. Blaine's smile lit the room up even though his lower lip was quivering a bit. He was proud of Sam. As they left the library Blaine let his hand gently pat Sam on the back. He wanted to encourage him without saying anything; he thought words might make things harder. Every step towards the office felt like a mile for Sam. His heart beat got faster every single inch he moved closer. Miss. Pillsbury's office was around the corner and down the hall from the library and they had already made it around the corner and half way down the hall.

The other kids walking by made Sam feel alone. They were off to their next class or to see their friends or to grab a snack before lunch was over and he wasn't. He was walking to a cold, uncomfortable office to tell someone who had real power, and could fix him, all of his secrets. They stopped just short of Miss. Pillsbury's office and Blaine's face fell.

"Sam…"

"You said all I had to do was walk here, you wouldn't make me go in."

"I know you want to. Think, okay? Think about how much easier and better things will be. You don't even have to say anything. I can talk and I'll answer all the questions and if I don't know the answer I'll tell her you just don't want to say anything, or I'll let you talk and I won't say anything. Or we can talk together, just, think about it. For one second."

Sam could feel his heart, it was beating so fast. He didn't want to give this up. This is what he knew; this is where he felt comfortable. He felt comfortable in misery. He'd rather kill himself and not have to let anyone take him out of his comfort zone than be able to live but have to talk to someone about what he felt. "I'm scared."

"I know, I know." He put his hands on both of Sam's shoulders and looked him deep in the eyes. "It's gonna be okay. I _promise_ you."

"What's gonna happen?" Sam looked around nervously, his eyes darting back and forth between the door to the office, the kids going by and Blaine.  
"I don't know." Blaine smiled kindly. "But whatever happens, it's gonna be better than this, okay?" Blaine looked up at Sam. He could see the worry on Sam's face.

After a long moment of starring at Blaine, he nodded. "Okay."

For the first time since this all started Sam felt a sense of calm flow over his body. Blaine felt something similar, a feeling of relaxation, knowing that Sam was going to be okay.

A second later Blaine spoke. "Miss. Pillsbury, can we talk to you?"

* * *

Thank you guys so much for any encouragement and reviews, this story is important to me, it comes from a personal place and I'm glad you guys are liking it!

It's coming to an end in the next few chapters, maybe only one more chapter depending on how I decide to set it up.

Thank you again, your reviews have been lovely!


	5. Chapter 5

"Yes, boys! Sit down." Miss. Pillsbury looked up from her notebook, closed it, and focused on the boys. "Is there something I can help you with?" Her wide eyes went back and forth between Blaine and Sam.

Blaine sat first, followed by Sam who rubbed his palms against his jeans in an attempt to wipe the sweat off. His jaw was clenched shut, as hard as it could be.

"Yes, actually, uh, Sam?" Blaine turned to Sam who turned back to him in response. Blaine could read the message on his face which was that he wasn't able to say anything, he didn't know what to say and he didn't know how to say it, but that he wanted to say something. "Did you want me…?" Blaine itched the back of his arm while asking and Sam nodded, allowing Blaine to continue. Miss Pillsbury was watching the two boys in front of her, it was clear that Sam had an issue that he didn't want to talk about.

"Sam, is everything okay?"

"No, actually," Blaine spoke up before Sam could feel uncomfortable with her question. He put his hand on Sam's shoulder; all his friend could do was look down, at his lap, at his shoes, at the floor. "Sam's been having a few problems with his eating and uhm, in addition, he's struggling with cutting himself." This was harder for Blaine to say than he expected, but he was so glad Sam was letting him do it.

Sam slammed his eyes shut, and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Sam is this true?" Miss. Pillsbury's concern was genuine.

He shrugged, defeated. "I guess."

"Okay, well it's very brave of you to come and talk to me."

Sam was grinding his teeth, a nervous habit of his.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, okay?"

Both boys nodded. Blaine was here for Sam and would help him if he needed help.

"How long has this been going on for?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Does it really matter?"

"I suppose not necessarily, if you don't want to talk about that, uhm," Miss. Pillsburty folded her hands on her desk. "Do your parents know?"

"I don't even live with my parents, but no."

"Why haven't you told them?" Blaine looked at Sam after Miss. Pillsbury asked him the question. His face had waves of different emotions all over it. He couldn't tell what they all were but he could see shame, guilt and anxiety.

"I just didn't want them to know…I didn't want to disappoint them. I can't really talk to them about things like this, they've had a really hard time in the past and I don't to be the reason something else goes wrong for them." Sam's head was low but he was looking up.

Miss. Pillsbury went on about how his parents would want to know, no matter what it was. She talked about how his parents would love him regardless of what he told them, how It would help with his recovery. She talked about how eating disorders are very serious issues and how if he's cutting himself, too, there may be a deeper disorder like depression involved. "You're staying with Finn and Kurt's family, right? Would you feel comfortable talking to their parents?"

He shrugged. "They know."

"You've talked to them?" She lit up a bit. "That's really good, Sam."

"No, I didn't tell them…they just know."

"Mhm," Miss. Pillsbury nodded. "I'm going to encourage you to talk to them tonight, and maybe call your parents, yeah? I'm going to give you these." She opened the drawer of her desk and pulled out a couple of pamphlets. One saying, _'So, you have a girl's disease.'_ And another saying, '_Being skinny won't make you happy._' She never meant to offend anyone with her pamphlets they were all made with the intention of making someone smile in a difficult time, maybe they could look at them and feel okay for a quick second before remembering whatever the reason what they were in there talking to her. Sam took them hesitantly. "There are a lot of good doctors here in Lima who will listen to you and help you though this, and of course I'm here, we should set up a weekly meeting schedule. Plus I'm sure Blaine here, and the entire glee club will support you."

"Yeah, Sam, you know we're all here for you." Blaine spoke honestly. Sam opened up one of the pamphlets, curiously. He ran his thumb along the glossy letters. He closed it and flung his head back. "I don't know what's wrong with me." He let all the air escape his lungs, exhaling deeply.

"Eating disorders are tricky things, Sam. Some people who have suffered for years don't even fully understand why. Your self-harm habit no doubt stems from the feelings you have already because of your illness. Talking, though, will help you a lot. If you feel more comfortable talking here, I can call in the Hudson-Hummel's and we can all meet here. I can recommend a few nutritionists, as well as some very good psychologists for when you're not at school. Sam, I'm very proud of you for coming to talk to me."

"Blaine kind of made me." He was being honest but also subconsciously trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, you're very lucky to have a friend like Blaine who is looking out for you. I know you boys both have class now; I would love to talk to you tomorrow, Sam. Do you think you'll be able to talk to your guardians tonight?"

Sam nodded and sat up straight, getting ready to stand up.

"Good. If you have any troubles you can email me, my email address is on the back of those pamphlets. Or, I'm sure Blaine will be willing to help you through tonight if you feel more comfortable with that."

"Yeah, absolutely, Sam."

"What's important is that you just let them know that you're having a hard time and they will be more than willing to help you and talk with you, I've met them both in past and I know they're good people. Sam, you're very lucky to have such kind people around you who want to help you." Even though he knows she's right, every time he hears the word help, it's a little frustrating. Sam wants to be independent, in control of his own life and everyone constantly bringing up helping him is a little upsetting. He's not a kid, and he hates being treated like one. He knows where everyone is coming from and he gets it, he just wishes he wasn't in this situation.

"Yeah, okay." Sam stood up and Blaine followed his lead.

"Thank you so much, Miss. Pillsbury."

"Of course, Blaine. Take care of Sam, alright? And Sam," He had already made his way to the door about to leave before she called him back. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Try to eat something tonight, if you can. Alright?"

He nodded and the two boys left.

* * *

When Sam got home Burt and Carole were sitting in the living room going through a box of old clothes, deciding what to do with them.

"Hi, sweetie!" Carole welcomed him home. She always treated him like he was their own son, and so did Burt.

"Sam, would you wear this?" Burt held up an old shirt of Finn's that he hasn't worn in a few years. Sam walked over and threw his school bag on the floor before sitting on the arm of the couch.

"It's kind of old looking." He crossed his arms while he talked to Burt who shrugged in agreement.

"I made blueberry muffins today, if you… wanted one. I know they're your favourite."

Sam's face went a little red because of the way she said that. It was obvious they both_ knew_ but he thought, since they were giving him a home, that he owed it to them to completely honest with them. "Can we talk about that?"

Burt looked up at Sam but Carole was the one to speak. "We can talk about anything you want, honey."

Sam nodded but didn't start speaking right away. Burt was sitting on his chair with a few shirts in his lap, watching him. Carole was sitting on the couch beside where Sam was sitting.

"I've uhm, I mean, I guess you guys know and stuff, but…" He rolled his eyes, not knowing how to finish his sentence.

"Sam, we know you've not been eating. At all." Burt didn't want to watch Sam struggle to get his sentence out so he tried to make it easier.

Sam moved down and sat on the couch beside Carole who rubbed his back gently. "Blaine and Miss. Pillsbury from school think I have an eating disorder."

He could see the pain on Carole's face when he said that. Burt remained relatively emotionless. Or at least he made his face look that way.

"How did this happen?" Burt asked, straight.

All Sam could do was shrug. He doesn't remember when it started or how it started or why it started but none of that mattered anymore because his goal was to get to be done with. On his walk home from school he really took that time to look at his current life situation and decide what he wanted to do. He still felt a little nervous giving up such a huge part of his life but he knew it would be better in the long run and because more than just Blaine knew now, he couldn't go back. "There's more…"

"What's going on?" Carole asked warmly.

"I know you guys aren't my parents but can you just promise that you won't get mad at me?"

Burt and Carole looked at each other and nodded, almost as if they had some sort of non-verbal conversation. "What happened?" Burt spoke directly to Sam. His voice was strong but also full of concern.

"You know how this morning, uh… you had a headache and you were screaming because there was no advil?" Burt nodded and Sam took a deep breath and continued, speaking a little faster now to get all the words out. "When I feel bad I cut myself and on the weekend I was feeling really bad about things and I took all the advil and I really screwed up my arm with cuts and stuff and I tried to kill myself."

Neither of them said anything for a long moment, they both just sat there in shock.

"I'm really sorry. Please don't kick me out."

Carole put his arm around Sam, she was fighting back tears. "Sam, sweetie, we will never kick you out."

"You shouldn't have had to do that all on your own, you shouldn't have had to go through that. You could have talked to us." Burt was angry, he didn't let it show very much at that moment but he was angry. Not at Sam, maybe at himself. Mostly he was angry at the situation.

"I was scared. Not just that, I mean, I didn't want you guys to know."

"What did Miss. Pillsbury say?"

"She said I should see a nutritionist and a psychologist and that I should tell you guys and I should tell my parents."

"Have you called your parents yet?" Carole asked him with bright eyes, enthusiastic eyes.

"I was hoping maybe you would call them for me." He spoke more slowly now, trying to convince her with every word.

"Would that be easier for you?"

He nodded and stood up. "Thanks, Carole." She smiled sensitively at his thank you. She was willing to do this for him, and the fact that he called her Carole rather than Mrs. H made it clear he was really, truly grateful. He started to walk back to his room before Burt called out to him. "It's gonna get better, Sam." He had reminded Sam, who looked back and nodded, grabbing a muffin from the counter before going back to his room.

* * *

"I feel awful." Burt rested his index and middle finger on his temple, his thumb on his chin. "We should have known. We should have… he could have died. Under our supervision." Kurt had gone through a lot in high school and he felt like he was reliving it with Sam, but in a different way. He really just wanted to protect his boys. He's always been very protective. Carole stood up and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "I'm going to call Mary now."

Burt waved her away. He still felt guilty and responsible. He knew about Sam's problem with food but he didn't know how extreme it was and he didn't know that Sam wanted to kill himself over it. At that moment he promised himself that he was going to pay more attention to Sam and make sure he was safe. Kurt and Finn had both grown up, they had moved out and Burt was damn proud of the job he did with both of them, he wasn't going to let Sam feel like this anymore.

* * *

"How'd it go?" Blaine asked Sam on the phone. Sam was sitting on his bed, phone in his hand, the blueberry muffin sitting in front of him.

"It was alright, I feel like they're kind of mad at me or something. Carole's gonna call my mom for me. I couldn't do it." He watched the muffin almost as if it was moving. He was studying it. _I wonder how many calories are in this._

"I'm really glad things went okay, Sam."

_I bet there's a lot. I wonder if she made them from scratch or if she bought a pack of muffin mix. I didn't see any blueberries in the fridge; usually they're in front of the bottled water. I would have seen them. She probably made it from a mix. Those have all kinds of hidden ingredients._

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, after Sam hadn't responded to his last remark.

"Mmm, yeah."

"Are you sure? Sam, what's wrong?"

"It's stupid." He felt stupid; he was putting so much thought into a muffin.

"You can talk to me, you know that."

Sam sighed but agreed. "Carole made muffins today and I have one and,"

"That's great, Sam. I'm really proud of you." He cut Sam off, not to be rude, not because he didn't care but because he wanted Sam to know at that very moment that he was proud of him, it didn't matter if he had eaten it or just had it with him with the possibility of eating it.

"I said I have one, not that I already had one. I just don't know how many calories are in it."

"Does it matter? I mean, you have to eat and you _love_ blueberry muffins." _He's right. I do love them._

"I told you it was stupid."

"It's not stupid, okay?

Sam was distant on the phone call. He could tell, he was focused on the food sitting in front of him and how badly he wanted to eat it and start to get better, but on the other hand he wanted to get rid of it and stay strong. In his mind not eating made him strong, and eating made him a failure.

"I'm distracting you. I'm gonna go, eat that muffin! Call me later, okay?"

"Bye Blaine."

"Bye Sam."

It was just him and that muffin. _This is stupid. All you have to do is unwrap the muffin and eat it. It's not hard. You haven't eaten in days. You want this. You want to get better. You know you do. _Sam ripped the top of the muffin off, it was his favourite part, and ripped a bite sized piece off. He looked over to his night stand where he knew his razors and cloths were. He sighed before putting the muffin down and reaching for his razor. He grabbed it and walked towards the door, he had two options.

He walked out to the kitchen and dropped it into the garbage.

"Sam…" Burt was still sitting in the living room.

"Oh… yeah?" He had hoped no one would see him do that.

"Come here for a second." Sam followed Burt's voice into the living room and stood beside the couch.

"I'm really sorry I got mad at you the other day for, you know, not eating and I'm really sorry you've been dealing with this."

He wasn't used to Burt being so open and honest with how he felt. It was touching to see how much he cared about him. "Thanks, Mr. Hummel."

Burt didn't say much but he got his message across.

* * *

Back in Sam's room he continued to struggle. It was easy for him to throw out his razors because if he really had to he could go get them out of the trash, he could take them out but if he put this in him stomach he wouldn't be able to get it back out. He had tried throwing up in the earlier days of his disorder but he couldn't no matter how hard he tried. His body just wasn't made for it.

_It smells so good. It looks so good. Okay, just one bite. _He took a small bite of the blueberry muffin he was holding. _Oh, my god. _His Oh, my god was half because it was delicious and half because of the feeling he got when he ate. He really did want to get better but that doesn't mean that all of a sudden he can eat whatever he wanted and not feel guilty.

He did his best to push his feelings down and it was worth it when the muffin was half gone and then mostly gone and then gone.

He felt a little relieved. He's obviously eaten during his disorder but that was mostly to stay alive. With this muffin it was different. Eating this muffin meant he was okay with moving towards a different future. He was open to letting other people help him and make sure he was okay. He knew there were people who wanted to help him and make him feel better and maybe getting help wasn't the worst thing. Maybe. If getting help meant he'd feel okay about himself, it was worth it.

And he can honestly say after eating that muffin he felt okay.

* * *

Thank you guys so much for your continued support for this fic, your reviews are amazing and all the follows/favourites are so encouraging, THANK YOU!

I have one more chapter to come.

I hope you enjoyed this, I'll post the final chapter soon.

Thank you, again, I love reading your reviews so much!


	6. Epilogue

**_Epilogue_ **

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Blaine and Sam were walking home from school, the cool wind fighting against the warm air, blowing in their faces to create a ying/yang sort of atmosphere.

"Hmm?" Sam asked Blaine, confused.

Looking down, Blaine took a second to speak before finally letting the words escape his mouth. "I saw your leg in gym today."

Sam's heart dropped, but he didn't respond. _Oh, crap_.

"Sam, what's going on?"

"Look, Blaine, it's not a big deal, okay?"

"You've been doing so well, Sam! You've been eating at least a _little _every day, and I didn't _think_ you were cutting again. Stop saying things aren't a big deal when they are."

"I HAVE been eating," Sam trailed off as he watched his feet on the hard sidewalk. "And I'm not cutting myself."

"Sam." Blaine stopped walking and looked to his best friend. His jaw was clenched and his eyes had pain in them. "I know what I saw. If you're not gonna talk to me, talk to someone. Please."

"Blaine…"

"No. I'm serious, Sam. You have been doing so well, and I-I don't wanna see you suffer like this again. You really got back to yourself over the past few weeks and I don't want to see you…fall back down the rabbit hole. What happened?"

Sam exhaled, not knowing what to say. He was hesitant about talking about it because he didn't want to disappoint anyone, especially not Blaine. He walked passed Blaine and sat on the bench along the side walk; Blaine followed him and sat down. The bench was old and wooden and starting to rot, but comfortable.

"I'm not cutting myself. I just… _cut_ myself."

"Why? Tell me why. Talk to me." Blaine was being persistent because he knew Sam was the kind of person who, even if he tried to hide it at first, would open up. And he'd feel better if he opened up, the past proved that.

"I just, I don't know. I've been really trying to like eat normal and be okay with it but yesterday I just ate way too much. And…"

"You cut yourself."

"I didn't expect anyone to know…it was a one-time thing."

"Have you told anyone?"

"No. and I'm not. Well, I guess except for you now." Sam shrugged.

"I will listen to you, all day and all night if you want me to but I can't help you the way your psychologist or Miss. Pillsbury could. They need to know if you're slipping back into old habits, Sam." When Blaine was worried he always let it show. He always made it very clear though his voice and his face and his body language and his eyes that he was concerned.

Sam nodded, knowing his friend was right. He had gotten really good at being honest with everyone in his life over the past few weeks but that was when things were getting better. He had been eating every day, partly because Burt and Carole were really putting a lot of effort into his recovery and made him eat at least part of his dinner every night, no exceptions. They never pressured him, but encouraged him and it was often enough. He hadn't been cutting himself because except for that _one time_ he really just didn't want to _live _anymore, his cutting was related to how he felt when he ate and he was doing his very best to feel okay with eating because even though this disorder was part of him, he wanted so badly to get better and it showed.

* * *

Sometimes dinner time was awful; sometimes it was a huge struggle. One time in particular happened a little over a week ago when they were having chicken, potatoes and rice. The chicken wasn't that big of a deal for Sam, neither was the rice since it was brown and he didn't have that large of a portion but the potatoes were an issue for him.

Half way through the meal Carole noticed Sam hadn't touched his potatoes. He was a slow eater and that was something they had come to deal with but it was rare since in recovery that Sam simply wouldn't touch part of his meal. He knew his nutritionist took notes from Burt and Carole about his eating habits and he was doing so well up until that night.

"Is there something wrong with the potatoes?" Carole looked to Sam, curiously. Burt was looking at Sam as well, chewing on chicken, his fork in his hand.

"I just don't want any."

"Sam, you have to eat vegetables with every meal."

"Potatoes are carbs." Sam was slumped in his chair, but he spoke forcefully, trying to get his point of view out.

Burt spoke up before Carole had a chance to. "Well, they're the _vegetables_ we're having tonight." Part of Burt knew that if they let Sam get away with it, he would take that opportunity to run, and he was right. If Sam knew he could get away with skipping a part of his meal every night, he would. Even though he really was _honestly_ working on getting better, the disorder was still in him, still part of him, fighting to be seen and heard.

"Oh my god." Sam mumbled under his breath before lashing out. "It's one part of one meal, one night, can we just let it go?!"

A silent blanket fell across the room. Sam had been doing really well and hadn't shown any anger since agreeing to start recovery but this lash out needed to be addressed. Carole excused Sam and the following day he talked to his psychologist about it.

* * *

"I don't know, I guess I was just like…looking at them, at the potatoes, and I thought they would make me puffy."

"What do you think would happen if you got _puffy_?" Sam's doctor, Dr. Tram sat across from him, she was sitting with her legs crossed, Sam sitting leaned back in his chair.

"What?"

"What's the worst that would have happened if you ate those potatoes and got _puffy_?" Dr. Tram made sure to say the word_ puffy_ in a hypothetical way.

Sam didn't have an answer. He didn't know why in his mind being puffy or chubby or even fat was bad, but it was. To be anything less than perfect was hard for him, but something clicked in him during this session.

"Your friends and family wouldn't stop loving you. You'll still have a future, you'll be fine even if you do get _puffy_."

He knew she was right.

* * *

Sam knew he had to get home soon, or else he would miss dinner which he couldn't do, so Blaine and Sam began walking again.

"I know I keep saying it but I'm really proud of you." Blaine patted Sam's back as they turned the corner.

Sam nodded and smiled. He pursed his lips together, thankful to have someone like Blaine who was so encouraging and supporting and wonderful.

"It's not gonna be easy every day, but if you keep working you're gonna keep getting better. And I'm gonna be here for you the whole time and maybe if you feel like… you know… hurting yourself again, call me first. Okay?"

"Yeah." Sam ran his palm over his eyebrow. "I didn't even really realize what was happening until I did it. Like, no one was even making me eat, I was home alone and I just ate like literally half a bag of Doritos and I just felt like shit and I just felt like I had to." It was the truth. Something so small can have such an impact on you when you're not well. When you're at the hands of a disorder or an addiction.

"Okay… that's okay, Sam. I mean, you're gonna have days like that, days that are really hard and just, you're gonna want to give in, but promise me you won't."

"I promise."

He meant it. He knew it was going to be a long time before he could eat whatever he wanted without feeling guilty or wrong or worry about gaining weight and he knew that sometimes he would be triggered and want to cut himself. He knew this. But he also knew that with the help of his parents, who he skyped with every night now, and Burt and Carole, who were there to help him make good choices, and Dr. Tram and Miss. Pillsbury, who helped him understand his problems he'd be just fine.

Above all of them, though, he had his best friend in the entire world. Blaine Anderson, who without, he might not have even been alive that day.

* * *

Thank you for the constant support of this story, it means so much to me! This is the final chapter and I'm kind of sad to say goodbye to it.

But thank you for the support!

I've gotten a few reviews and private messages either asking me if I can relate to Sam or telling me that they can relate to Sam and what I want to say is that if you or someone you know is having any problems with an eating disorder or self harm please please please talk to someone! I'm not saying you need to call the doctor and get help in that way because I know that's not always an option but please open up to at least one person, one friend, one_ Blaine_. It will make all the difference. If you don't have someone who you can talk to, PM me and I will listen! I promise.

This story is roughly based on my experience and things got a lot better when I talked to a friend and opened up to her.

It might not get better over night, but it will get easier and it will be worth it.

Thank you for reading and reviewing and being so encouraging!

**Thank you all.**


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